Stroke of Luck
by Wulf
Summary: No. 1 in the Garbage Lyrics Series. After the war, Fox struggles to come to grips with who he is, which leads to the date from hell. October 2005 revision.
1. PART ONE

**PART ONE  
CHAPTER ONE**

_Wulf_

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

Credits: Stroke of Luck (c) Garbage.

_Re-edit, October 2005._

_x_

_Hanging by threads of palest silver.  
I could have stayed that way forever.  
Bad blood and ghosts wrapped tight around me.  
Nothing could ever seem to touch me.  
I lose what I love most..._

_x_

_a random Wednesday in the middle of summer, Cornerian Air Force Base, Peace Keeper's division_

Bill Grey pushed past the door and into the usually spacious room, which by now would probably cause a claustrophobic to spasm into hyperventilation and fits of arrhythmia on sight. Squeezing his way through the dispersing lunch-goers, the mixed breed's was distracted, plotting all the random scenarios of mischief he could possibly allow to come to fruition within a period of one hour. His lunch break never seemed to last long enough. Scanning the crowd for a sign of anyone he knew, his eyes came to rest on the furry reddish head of Fox McCloud. The young canine was busily preparing some lame-ass blah blah report, occasionally glancing up once in awhile to whatever it was that caught his attention, before returning to his report with a little smile that he probably didn't even realize he was sporting.

Bill scanned the crowd, smirking when his eyes came to rest on just what it was that was keeping the tod from his work. _Well, this sure is interesting._ With that amused thought in his head, and an even better one boiling over with the many ways he could tease Fox about his little crush, the mutt once again struggled to get through the crushing confines of the horde, and stumbled out, nearly falling over another dog in his way. Bill muttered his apologies and stepped around the borzoi, practically skipping with anticipation as he ran to his best friend's side and plopped himself unceremoniously on his desk.

"Good show," he asked, stifling semi-vicious laughter.

Fox jumped, his pen slipping across the rest of the form before hitting the waxy mahogany top of his desk. He blushed, letting out a short curse before pulling open a desk drawer and fishing out his bottle of white-out. Fox dropped his eyelashes, trying to hide the blush before Bill caught on. "Ah-- what do you mean?"

"I think I see some drool there, man."

"Bill. . ."

Bill watched with no small amount of amusement as Fox's blush turned a deeper scarlet. Fox dabbed the white-out on the unsightly black slash across is report, vainly hoping that perhaps if he tried his best to ignore Bill, he'd go away. This, however, only served to incite the dog further.

"Hey, but it looks like you've got some pussy to fight off, if you want that cock..." Bill trailed off, scratching the back of his head awkwardly, slightly mortified at his choice of words. _Shit, I should've said BIRD! _Fox however wasn't paying much attention. He splattered white-out on the form in obvious anger, nearly covering up the writing along with the blemish His face was contorted in agitation, his small muzzle scrunched up in anger. _Uh, oh. Went a step too far here..._

"Bill, I'm kinda busy right now. I don't have the time for this. Seriously, what the hell are you even trying to get at?" Fox muttered, although he was already quite sure he knew. Despite his lack of relationship experience, even Fox knew what Bill was trying to imply, and that it was far from the usual joke dropped casually by straight men. He could still feel his face burning, annoyed at his own inability to stifle his embarrassment.

Bill frowned at this turn of events, wondering what could've gotten Fox so riled. _Well, there was that cock thing you said. . ._ Still, he'd obviously struck a nerve with him, went over some line he didn't realize he was crossing.

"Bill, just. . .forget it. Leave it," Fox said while cleaning off the last of his stray ink marks. He placed the cap back onto the long-suffering bottle of white-out and tossed it into his top desk drawer, slamming it closed a little too noisily, the desk rattling, causing Bill to wince and jump. _Yep, definitely pushed him too far,_ and Fox's fur was beginning to bristle. When Fox got pissed, it was kind of cute, like a baby kitten getting miffed. Until you got ten little razor sharp claws in a soft spot, that is. Being Bill, his curiosity overrode his sense of survival, and he pushed the matter further.

"But Fox, I mean. . . I don't there's anything wrong with it. It's kinda weird, but y'know. You guys hang out a lot. I think just about everyone here is curious as to what's going on with you two--" Bill suddenly clammed up, paws covering his muzzle. _Shit! I can't believe I just said that! At least I didn't spill it about the pool the office has going. . ._

This new bit of news settled into his brain, and Fox's paw skidded across the page for a second time that day. Everybody? What the hell did he mean everybody-- _Oh. Oh GOD. . ._ Why hadn't anyone said anything to him about it before? Fox licked his now dry lips as the new revelation sunk in.. "But, Bill... He's a guy:

"Gee, I hadn't noticed. So?"

Fox licked his lips again. _Are you kidding me? _Was this shit really happening? Did everyone at the base think he was... _that _way? Not that there would be anything wrong if he was. But he wasn't. Not even a little bit. Even though he hadn't ever dated a girl. Or a _boy_, for that matter. Living during a war mean hell on your sex life, which usually meant soldiers didn't even have one. (He had come to realize his paws did not count.) But anyway, he wasn't. At all. (Not that he had a problem with it.) Quietly assuring himself he still liked girls, Fox finally raised blue gaze to Bill's eyes.

"But, Bill... I'm not..._gay_." Fox insisted, punctuating his sentence with a weak laugh that seemed out of place, yet still necessary. He shook his head, and arched his neck down slightly before staring up at Bill with an unwavering blue gaze after getting his blush seemingly pretty much under control. His pride was at stake, damn it. Where in space had everyone gotten that idea...

Bill's eyebrows arched up. "You sure? I mean, uh. . . Well, I'll totally stop teasing you about it." Bill then looked away, yet again scratching the back of his head uncomfortably, hiding an embarrassed flush. He mumbled an apology and a good-bye before jumping off Fox's desk, hurriedly walking away and disappearing into the crowd to go lick his wounds. Fox leaned back in his plush chair, sighing. He once again pulled out the heavily-used white-out, and set about to cleaning up his report. As he slid the brush across the ugly black line, he let his eyes travel up again.

Across the crowded room was Falco Lombardi, his navy wings wrapped around Katt Monroe. The pink feline was giggling, trying to cover up her breathy laughter with one delicate white paw, playing coquette. Falco was looking down at her, a slight smile curving the edges of his beak. Fox quickly finished touching up his report and bolted for the door, reminding himself that he was still a man, and it didn't matter that Katt was hanging all over Falco. Like the little slut she was.

_Shit._

x

Fox jogged down a corridor that led to General Pepper's office. He struggled to gain his composure, as well as settle his little sexual crisis.

_Don't be an asshole. _

How could everyone think that of him? Was it just because he never brought a girl around him and never made passes at any of the girl in the office? His father had a problem with women until he had met Fox's mother, and nobody had ever questioned which way the Great James McCloud had swung. .._.Did they?_ Fox couldn't remember. He brought a paw up to his face, squeezing at the bridge of his muzzle, jaw tightening. _This is so fucking stupid. _The last scene played in his brain over and over again. Falco and Katt. Falco _hugging_ Katt. Sure, he hadn't kissed her, but the emotions were in his eyes. _Affection_. Why the hell should that matter to him? He had known about Falco and Katt since the war ended. He thought everybody did...but still... Why did he and Falco spend so much time together anyway? They had done several things together... but maybe it wasn't the things normal guys did with each other. They didn't watch football, or snicker about how hot Miss Lee looked in her new miniskirt... They talked, mostly...

Fox plodded down the long hall, feeling becoming more tangled and jumbled by the moment. Wondering why he felt betrayed by Falco's feelings for Katt. New pains came as he dwelled on the subject, becoming consumed by the frustration and anger until a girl's voice broke into his thoughts, and Fox realized how close he'd come to plowing over her.

"Fox! ...Fox? Are you okay? You look...upset."

Fox looked down into the clear blue eyes of Fay Dog. He bit his lip, squaring himself, standing tall. This would be a perfect chance to settle the little matter. He hated the idea of using Fay, but the sooner he could prove himself, the better. She had been his childhood friend, and helped him through several problems, even helping him find a good therapist when his father had died. Surely, she could help him through this. It was true he had never found himself attracted to her, and he'd assumed it was the same way for her.

... So, if he tried to take it a step further, how would she react? He eyed her critically, wishing and hoping for something he could find appealing. She was two years younger than he was, barely seventeen, and still looked as if she was a young pre-teen girl developing into a woman. Her chest was small, but a not a bad size for her body, hips slim, giving way to soft curves. Her pooling white ears were rather large for a poodle could take getting used to, but in knowing her most of his life, Fox had already. In fact, it had been her ears that had gotten his attention as a six-year-old. Fox smiled. She was Fay. She was his friend. She was perpetually shining and sweet, with barely a bad-tempered bone in her body. She wouldn't lifted a finger to hurt anyone, unless it was absolutely unavoidable, and he admired her for that. Since the war ended she had moved to Corneria and had started working for the base. Fay had a bit of an attitude at times, and on occasion, a rather short temper, but Fox was still pleased and enjoyed her company immensely.

"Fox? I asked if you were okay," she spoke up again, her soft voice ripping him from the private world he'd been in. He looked up at her hopeful face, his resolved hardened. He would ask her out. In the long run, it would be healthy for both of them...

_Right. Of course. Stop stalling._

"Um..." Fox trailed off, suddenly apprehensive, resolve failing fast. He swallowed a few times to get his stomach under control and stared down at his feet, feeling a cold sweat bead up on his forehead. "Doyouwannagooutwithme?"

"Huh?"

"Do you, er, ah, I mean... I'm asking if you'd like to... goonadatewithme."

"Fox, are you trying to ask me out?"

"Eer-- yeh."

_Way to go Casanova._

Fox was mortified, but Fay grinned, a sweet Using her strength to bolster his own, Fox found a smile creeping up on his own cheeks. He had made the right decision They'd go out, have a good time, and perhaps several others following. And no one would ever think he was _that_ way again.

"What time were you thinking?"

Fox swallowed again. This was the first time he'd ever even asked a girl out. What was the time people usually went out? Friday? Saturday? Eight o'clock? Nine o'clock? He couldn't remember. He'd been so preoccupied with splattering Andross across the bowels of Venom that he'd missed out on years of simple teen development. Suddenly, Fay's questioning eyes become a daunting oppressive force, and he quickly mumbled that Friday at eight o'clock sounded good and she beamed again.

"Okay. I'll met you at your apartment," She stated rather than asked, and stood up on her toes to peck his chastely on the cheek. Blushing and giggling she skipped down the hallway, humming softly, fluffy ears and tail bouncing as she retreated.

Fox smiled, a sense of security settling over him. His stomach was still acting up, but Fox chalked it up to not taking time for his lunch break yet. He understood now that what everyone thought had just been a freak accident, and he was going to prove them wrong Friday at eight. Hell, if he had to, he'd fucking _propose_ to her in front of everyone at the office. _Hey now, Fox. Let's not go just that far. You haven't even been on your first date with her yet_. Fox shrugged off the little voice and forced a smile. He was knew he'd enjoy her company. She was pretty and shapely and he was sure he'd have a good time. He would have a good time, _damn it._ He was determined to.

Nodding to himself, he knocked on General Pepper's door to present his report.

x

x

**CHAPTER TWO:**

_Did you know I was lost until you found me?  
A stroke of luck or a gift from God.  
The hand of fate or Devil's claws.  
From below or saints above,  
You came to me._

x

_Later that day, Fox's room at the barracks, Cornerian Air Force Base_

Fox hummed faintly as he pulled out a snappy ensemble for his Friday night date. It wasn't too dressy, a simple casual outfit designed to bring out his most striking feature. She spread it out on his bed; a green t-shirt, pair of khakis, and a white long-sleeved shirt, topped of with a pair of black sneakers. The rest of the clothes he owned were discarded carelessly around the floor of the small room. This was his first date and he intended to make it perfect. So, after countless hours scrutinizing everything housed in his closet, he finally settled on the apparel laid out on his bed, and was quite pleased by his newfound fashion sense.

He finished folding his clothing and put the outfit away for safe keeping until Friday night. Sighing, he surveyed the room with a grim eye, and commenced the daunting task of gathering up the assorted shirts, pants, shoes, and other items of clothing on the carpet when a low whistle and a voice behind him nearly make him jump out of his fur.

"Nice. What happened here?"

Fox's fur stood straight up. _Shit._ Swallowing his usually obedient heart (which had decided it would disobey him and frolic in his throat), he slowly turned around, his heart now choosing squeal in a fit of bile. Sweat once more took up residence on his brow (which was thankfully hidden by his thick fur), and licking his now dry lips, Fox wheeled around. "Falco."

"Hey, Fox. I came to see things were still fine for Friday night. I didn't expect to encounter Lylat War II."

Fox blushed a little, and eyed Falco's person carefully. He was clad in a simple thin black shirt, the first few buttons undone, revealing a plume of blue feathers. The shirt's sleeves were rolled up and it was untucked, hanging over a pair of rather worn blue jeans. Falco's dark green eyes glittered as they surveyed the room, as he carelessly ran his long, thin fingers through his unruly blue bangs that deigned to flop in his face. His soft eyes swept around the room before finally settling on Fox, who felt an electric current run through his belly. _This is stupid. You're so worked up, you're doing it to yourself, you idiot!_

Time slowed to a crawl as the pair peered at each other, and bounced forward again when Fox broke the gaze. _What the hell is your problem? _He stared at the heap of clothes on the floor and nervously chewed his bottom lip, wondering what in the hell to say to get out of being caught ogling his best friend.

"Eerm, so... nice weather we're having, huh?"

_Hell, that sucked._

Falco turned back to look at him after his eyes toured the room once more, a kind of playfulness seeping into him. A tiny, almost shy grin broke out on his face, which suffered the annoying shudder to run through him again, but Fox was too caught up in his embarrassment and Falco's haunting eyes to take much notice. There were very few times Falco Lombardi allowed his guard down, but it was always a noticeable improvement from his usual heated remarks. When he--

"So, Fox, I asked you what happened here," Falco repeated, blinking slowly.

"Oh! Sorry, I forgot. I got a date with Fay," Fox piped up with sudden excitement He began gathering up his clothes, turning his back to Falco. He was so engrossed in his task that he didn't notice the change in his friend's demeanor. Falco stiffened slightly, his mask slipping back into place.

"Oh."

Fox smiled, whipping around to face his friend, still unsuspecting. "If you'll excuse me, Falco, I gotta go wash a few things. I'll talk to you later, kay?

"Sure."

"Great!"

Fox walked briskly away, leaving Falco to survey his room once again. All the familiar things that made up Fox were there, lying in a boyish mess. His jean jacket hanging at an odd angle on the back of a wooden chair, rumpled clothes hanging out of his too-small dresser, his flute case laying near his unmade bed, posters of singing idols and hot new celebrities pinned up on the wall; everything a you would find in a normal nineteen-year-old boy's room.

And yet all of it was undeniably Fox's, mundane little things that meant the world to him. A large picture of his father hung on the wall, looking smooth and fresh in the habitual shades he was famous for. A leather bound collection of famous poetry was squeezed into one shelf of his bookcase, something pressed in between two of the volumes. Falco wrinkled his forehead in curiosity, stepping over to the bookcase and reaching for the semi-hidden object.

It was a picture. One that had once predominantly taken place framed on Fox's bedside table before. Falco stared down at it, wondering why it was now wedged in between two books that Fox had probably never even read.

It was a picture of he and Fox, taken on the day they had won the war. Fox looked tired, and yet happy, a large grin lighting up his boyish features as he flashed the photographer a victory sign, his right arm thrown over the shoulders of his companion. Falco stood beside him, and although he had his wings crossing his chest, he had on one of his rare smiles, a semi-smirk as he looked over at the happy canine

_What the fuck..._

Falco stared a moment longer, wondering why he felt like someone had just punched him in the gut. With a stiff sigh, he turned, placing the picture back between the books again, and went to go find something to do that didn't involve him having to interact with other people.


	2. PART TWO

**PART TWO  
CHAPTER THREE:**

_Wulf_

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

_Re-edit, October 2005._

_Here comes the cold again,  
feel it closing in.  
It's falling down and all around me falling.  
You say that you'll be there to catch me,  
Or will you only try to trap me?_

x

the middle of the night, Fox's room, Cornerian Air Force Base

Anxiety plagued Fox as he twisted fitfully in his sheets, trying yet still not able to find a comfortable position to lie in. He sat up, fluffing his pillow before plopping back down on it. With a sigh, he turned to his left, towards the bedside table, staring at the liquid crystal display of glowing red numbers. 1:37. He lingered on the table a little longer his eyes sweeping the darkness and coming to rest on a picture frame. The glass reflected the little light coming from the neon red display of his alarm clock, the cardboard backing showing through.

There should have been a picture.

Fox reached out, his fingertips lightly gracing the dark outline. Yes, there should have been a picture. Earlier that day, in a fit of trepidation, Fox had torn it out and shoved it in between two books. He hadn't wanted to destroy it, just hide it. Falco was still his friend, he deserved that much.

With another sigh, Fox rolled onto his back once again, staring up at the dark and endless ceiling. It was already Thursday, and his date was set for Friday. But it had not been Fay on his mind that day. While he utilized his meager and tentative sense of fashion in struggling to come up with suitable and proper attire for his date, his mind strayed back to Falco.

He had been afraid.

He remembered the freakish waves of emotion he'd felt that morning after watching Falco and Katt's uncommonly public display. It was obvious that both of them felt something in a deeper-than-friends kind of way. He had been afraid that it was anger, and he had also been afraid of something else.

He had been afraid of why he would be angry.

Although neither Falco nor Katt had said anything publically about their relationship, Fox had been almost sure that there had been some kind of sexual element to it. Both were protective of the other, and just as fiercely loyal. Falco was not a gregarious creature by nature, but often out of necessity. He would talk when he had to and then disappear into the background. He socialized with the rest of Star Fox, of course, and sometimes even joked with them.

But with Katt...

It was in the air around him when he was with her. There was a kind of comfortableness about him. He was less edgy, in a more relaxed stance, unlike his usual standoffish and defensive tall posture and arms crossed his chest. Even when he was around his comrades in Star Fox, he was rarely that relaxed. Except when he was with...

Fox sighed, rolling over on his right side, facing away from the table, away from the picture frame. He had an early meeting in the morning, and he knew that if he didn't get at least five hours of sleep, he was he would be about as useful as case of the clap at the board meeting.

He lapsed into a fitful dream.

x

x

**CHAPTER FOUR:**

_These are the rules I make.  
Our chains were meant to break.,  
You'll never change me.  
Here comes the cold again, I feel it closing in.  
You're falling down and all around me falling._

x

Thursday afternoon, Cornerian Air Force Base

Falco dug around blindly in the tool box for a moment before he found the wrench that he looking for. He wiped off a greasy wing on his old threadbare wifebeater and then wheeled himself across the concrete and under his arwing once more. Normally, one of the mechanics would take care of it, but Falco preferred to do the work himself. It wasn't so much a matter of pride, he could've cared less about the media attention, and frankly didn't want any. It was more a sense of connection with the ship, though it may have been only made out of steel and some wiring. In battle, a pilot had to rely on his ship more so than his own skills, and it somehow created a bond, nonsensical as it may have sounded.

Moreover, the Cornerian Air Force employed thousands of people, and a quick background check wasn't always so reliable. Several supporters of Andross had survived the war, and some were still causing trouble. There had been an incident just weeks after the war which had caused Fox to take flight without his jet.

He'd been up since the early dawn conducting personal appearances and press conferences, and was consequently fatigued and groggy, and failed to notice the alien wiring under his arwing, almost splattering across the concrete when the bomb exploded. Falco's wing faltered with the wrench as he remembered what had happened that day, the way Fox looked, suddenly so young and small and fragile as he lay broken and oozing on the concrete. It was unnerving, to see the guy that had finally gotten rid of Andross, bleeding out and writhing on the floor

The rest of Star Fox had been with him, Falco wasting no time in scooping up the dazed and nearly comatose Fox in his wings and high-tailing it to the nearest hospital. A blood transfusion had been required, and Bill had turned out to be the perfect match. After a three-hour surgery and a few scary days after, Fox was alive and well, though he would forever have a slight limp to his walk, which would probably get worse as time wore on.

Fox was the youngest of Star Fox (even younger than Slippy, by only a few weeks) and consequently., the rest of the team felt a protective urge to take care of him. Going into the war, Fox had been reckless and brash, sometimes bordering on arrogance. His hatred of Andross and the sacrilegious empire he'd constructed had fueled him, and he would've gone to any lengths to see their lives obliterated, even if it cost his own. He had his father's name to live up to, after all, and tried his best, though sometimes he may have fell short. His injury had revealed that from then on his flying time would have to be limited, and hadn't been the same since. He was still vivacious and semi-reckless, but had finally matured into reason. Still, there seemed to be an air of melancholia about him, a dullness in his eyes that was hard to miss. He had changed, and Falco had a hard time figuring out if it was for the better or for the worse.

He brought a wing up to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead, wishing that the air conditioning had been fixed. It was the middle of a particularly long dry spell, and summers on Corneria were hell anyway, especially unpopular with species that had thick fur. Or feathers.

With a grunt, Falco rolled himself out from under the spacecraft, setting his wrench down on the floor. His white tank top was drenched with sweat, and was sticking to him in the most uncomfortable and irritating way. He quickly slipped it off over his head, using a dry spot to mop up his face. He was balling it up to stow it away when he heard the hangar door open with a squeal of unoiled hinges that resounded in the massive room, the scratch of footfalls skittering across the cement.

Katt Monroe came running up, clad in only a skimpy tank top, daisy dukes, and a pair of flip-flops. A charming blush rose up in her cheeks as her eyes crawled over Falco's sweaty lean form, and she held out one white paw, offering a bottle of cool water to him.

"Thanks," he murmured, gratefully taking the bottle and downing it in a continuous gulp.

Katt smiled, tucking a strand of errant hair behind her ear and taking a seat next to him, pulling her knees up to her chest. "Thought you might need a drink. You've been at it for a while now." She waiting for Falco to finish, idly twirling a lock of pinkish hair around one finger.

Falco yawned, stretching his muscular arms over his head. Katt smiled up at his again, one paw playfully flicking at the feathers that hung down in his face. "Why do you hide behind your feathers? You've got a handsome face, why don't you show it off?" He smiled back at her, directing his best wet-your-pants stud muffin sneer at her. She giggled, blushing again.

"You hide behind your hair, too," he stated, lightly tugging at the pink and white tresses that hung in the feline's eyes. "But your face is much too cute to hide."

Katt blinked, staring up at Falco, who had turned away to stare at some spot on the pavement as if it held the answers to all of life's little problems. She smiled; if it had been anyone but Falco, she could've sworn her was flirting with her!

x

Fox stumbled through the day in a sleepy haze, replying to everything said to him with monosyllables or caveman-like grunts. His normally expressive blue eyes were red-rimed and bloodshot, his hair in disarray.

After struggling to stay awake in meeting after boring meeting, he decided that during his lunch break he could sneak into the hangar on the pretenses of sliding under his arwing for a good nap. He'd avoided everyone he knew and didn't know so far, and as long as he didn't run into the evil and ever-plotting Bill Grey, he'd be Scott Free.

The door to that hangar had been left slightly ajar, Fox noticed. As he walked closer, he overheard voices, one male, the second female.

"Why do you hide behind your feathers? You've got a handsome face, why don't you show it off?"

A pause, and then: "You hide behind your hair, too. But your face is much to cute to hide."

Fox tensed, his paw on the door stopping in mid-push. He wanted a nap, and needed one, bad, but he didn't want to stumble in on a couple's "leisure" time together. He had done that once before, and would never think of his superior, General Pepper the same way ever again. The male said something he didn't quite catch, which was followed by a few feminine giggles. After listening for a few more minutes, he realized just who is was he was eavesdropping on.

_What the fu-- that's Falco's voice! And Katt's!_

Then, it hit him. He's asking her out. Fox stepped back, his mind beginning to race. He should have been happy for him. He _wanted_ to be happy for him. Fox sucked in a breath, the room spinning. It was Falco. It was Falco in there with Katt and she was laughing and he was smiling and he was asking her out, and bloody hell why couldn't he just be happy for him?

He was feeling angry again.

_Shit._

With nothing else coming to mind, Fox fled.

late evening, Fox's room, Cornerian Air Force Base

Fox lay on his stomach, clutching a pillow to his chest as he mindlessly clicked through the satellite channels, trying to get his mind off the exchange he had bared witness to earlier that day. It proved to be a fruitless endeavor, however, as the words replayed themselves in his mind over and over again. Katt's annoyingly cute giggle. Falco's dirty smirk. The air around them, the electricity between them, the comfortableness and the closeness...

Fox squeezed his eyes shut. Why? Why did it hurt? Why couldn't he just be happy for Falco? The thought of Falco and Katt together, happy...

Fox rolled over on his back, clicking off the TV and hugging the pillow tighter to his chest. He couldn't think. He didn't want to. Something was beginning to hurt. _But I don't..._

Fox chose not to finish that thought. He put the pillow back behind his head and pulled the blankets up over his chest, turning to the bedside table to turn out the light. His paw rested on the lamp switch, his eyes locked onto the empty picture frame, frozen for a moment.

He clicked the light off..

_You are so fucking dumb, Fox_

_. . .Thanks_.


	3. PART THREE

**PART THREE  
CHAPTER FIVE:**

_Wulf_

Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue.

I realize they probably do not have Chinese food in Lylat, but did not know what else to call it. :shrugs: Fortunan, if you wish.

Yes, beer and cake will make you puke. Try it sometime.

_Re-edit, October 2005._

_Stroke of luck or a gift from god.  
Hand of fate or devil's claws.  
From below or saints above you come to me now.  
Don't ask me why,  
Don't even try._

x

Friday night, outside the Cornerian Air Force Base

The Cornerian sky was awash with hot pinks and reds and oranges, indicating the setting sun. The natural beauty was lost on Fox, who stood alone, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other. He was dressed and groomed for his date, fingers finding their way to his lapel and anxiously playing with the collar of his white flannel. He held a bouquet of daisies in his unoccupied paw, silently awaiting Fay, who was finishing up her duties at the base.

Sudden apprehensions once again wrapped its tendrils around Fox's brain. Was he doing the right thing? Was he really attracted to Fay? She had been so happy, almost overjoyed that he had asked her out. But how did he feel about her? She was pretty, sure, but anyone cold appreciate beauty. She was intelligent, sweet, and funny, with a spunky and adventurous feisty side. She was...

She was his childhood friend. Was that it? Was that the problem, that perhaps he couldn't stop thinking of her as a friend long enough to think of her as a love interest? Then why did he feel so...

"Hey, Fox!"

Fox spun around to witness Katt skipping down the stairs to the building, firmly attached to Falco's arm. She had her hair pulled up in a ponytail, a pale blue mini-skirt and tank top off-setting her carnation pink fur. Her sandals clicked audibly on the sidewalk as she bounded lightly. Fox swallowed. She was beautiful.

"You look... great, Katt."

The feline modestly blushed, thick mascara lashes dropping demurely. She brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, one arm still tightly fastened to Falco's arm. He was dressed in a black silk shirt, the first few buttons undone, and a pair of old, frayed jeans which hugged his lean form. His black leather boots thudded on the pavement, off-setting the playful click of Katt's sandals. They _did_ make an attractive couple. Fox tried to find the words to articulate the notion, but failed

"Fox! I'm sorry I'm late!" came a new female voice, and Fay came running up to join the group.

She had her ears tied up in pink ribbons remnant of pigtails, a simple hot pink sheath fitting her slim form perfectly. She tripped lightly in her jelly sandals, the four-inch heels adding to her height. Pink eye shadow accompanied black mascara, a healthy flush adding a rosy hue to her cheeks. Blushing, she stepped over to Fox.

"Well?"

Fox smiled, lightly tugging at one ear, a teasing habit he'd developed early when they'd first been introduced to each other.. It annoyed the hell out of her, especially since she knew she would always be thought of as adorable, and never sexy. She was pretty, yes, but far too young-looking. Fay was thin, but lacked the sloping curves that defined a grown woman. She had always been jealous of Katt's figure, but kept quiet, fearing that any outburst were only add to the idea that she was still a mere child.

Still lightly twisting long white tresses between his fingers, Fox remained speechless. He had known Fay for most of his life, and yet... he never realized how beautiful she really was. Fay had never worn make-up before that night, and certainly never a dress. She had always been the tomboy of the group, too boyish to fit in with the girls, but too girly to fit in with the boys. He had never noticed how much she had grown, curves notwithstanding.

"You look fantastic, Fay," Fox finally said, releasing her ear and offering her the flowers. She blushed, thanking him and taking the flowers, reaching up to peck him lightly on the cheek. Dimly, he felt Fay slip her paw into his.

Fox looked over to see Katt, who smiled back at him.

"Looks like we'll see you later, Tiger. Falco's promised me a night on the town."

Fox nodded, looking over to Falco, who shrugged, looking away from him. "C'mon, Katt, let's go," he asserted, lightly tugging the girl towards the direction he wished to depart. With one last wink at Fox, she bounced along beside him. A frown surfaced on Fox's face, jaw hurting, as he watched Katt and Falco head off.

_Are you stupid?_

Something tugged on his sleeve, and Fox looked down to Fay, a questioning look on her girlish face. "Ready to go?"

Fox nodded, not sure that he was.

x

Later that night, downtown Corneria City

They'd had a little trouble opening up to each other in the beginning, both finding themselves in unfamiliar territory, but Fox found himself relaxing in Fay's company as the girl chatted along beside him, her paw still holding onto his. She had one daisy tucked behind her ear, the rest swinging idly from her other paw. All thoughts of Falco and Katt had vacated his thoughts, his mind focusing on Fay.

Dinner had been at the China Jade restaurant, a frequent haunt of Fox's. Introduced to it by his father at sixteen, Fox had been a loyal patrons since.

_"Hey, Fox. I came to see if we were still on for Friday night. I didn't expect to encounter Lylat War II."_

Fox's mind drifted suddenly, wondering such a thing would suddenly surface.

_Oh. . . oh shit. . ._

Falco. His original plans for Friday night had been with Falco. The avian never had the privilege of Chinese food, which to Fox was a rather hefty crime. He'd promised to drag him to his favorite spot, and share with him the utter nirvana that was Chinese. They'd hang out for a bit, stuff themselves, hit up the bars, try to pick up chicks. . .

"Fox? Fox! Are you listening!"

Jolted back to reality by the sound of Fay's voice, he snapped his head around to look at Fay, who stared up at him, her sky blue eyes slightly narrowed, a cute pout on her face. "Weren't you listening at all, Fox?" She asked again, feeling slightly miffed.

"Uh, I'm sorry, Fay, I think I spaced out for a moment," Fox babbled, embarrassed. " It must be the air... it's too crowded here, don't you think?"

"Wanna go back to my place?"

Fox stopped, not sure he had heard Fay correctly. She stared up at him, an expectant look on her face. She was so shy, so innocent, that surely she wasn't entailing. . .

_Well, here you go, Romeo, time to prove yourself to everyone._

Not trusting his voice, Fox nodded

x

x

**CHAPTER SIX**

_A stroke of luck or a gift from god.  
The hand of fate or devil's claws.  
From below or saints above you came to me.  
Here comes the cold again, I feel it closing in.  
It's falling down and all around me falling._

x

Later, Fay's apartment, downtown Corneria City

Fox sat on Fay's couch, nervously tugging at the collar of his shirt once more. His paws were clammy, a cold sweat beading up on his forehead. One sneaker lightly tapped on the immaculate white carpet, making a soft, muted pata-pata-pata noise. His eyes skittishly roamed around the tiny living room, from the highly polished mahogany coffee table, to the semi-big screen TV, to the shelves housing various paraphernalia ranging from tiny figurines to framed pictures, to other miscellaneous odds and ends. The white and pink hues of the room and the polished and dusted furniture suggested a woman's touch, but the tiny clutters of out-of-place objects hinted a more masculine influence. An autographed picture of Fay's favorite football star was hung predominately in the center of the far wall, near the bookcase. Fox dropped his jittery eyes to the carpet.

Fox stared down at his feet, as if they were the most interesting objects in the universe. He suddenly felt afraid, and severely out of place. He hadn't even ever kissed a girl, for hell's sake! _There's a first time for everything. . . And Bill will shut the hell up._

He didn't want to use Fay, but he did like her. But was it love? Could he honestly say that he loved her?

"Sorry it took so long, Fox," Fay's bubbly alto broke his thoughts. She carefully balanced a tray with a chocolate cake on it, along with two wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. "Hope you're up for desert," she chirruped. "I baked the cake myself."

Fox smiled, taking the tray from her and setting it down on the coffee table. He gratefully poured the wine while Fay dissected the cake into small slices. Before she had even finished cutting, Fox had downed his first glass of wine in great mouthfuls and was working on his second. Before Fay's startled eyes, but finished the second one in one gulp, set the glass down, and wiped his mouth of the remaining droplets of wine.

"I guess you're really thirsty," she said, arching a brow and sitting down next to Fox. He smiled sheepishly, suppressing a burp and pouring himself another glass. He didn't intend to get plastered, just merrily buzzed enough to loosen up. _After all, you're about to take advantage of your best friend._

_Shut up._

It felt as if something inside him was wound up too tight, and if he didn't calm down he thought he just might explode.

"Well, bon appetite," Fay quipped, handing Fox a small plate with a piece of cake on it. He smiled again, slightly blushing as she stared at him expectantly. Slowly, he cut off a bite-sized piece with his fork and slipped the piece in his mouth, the chocolate melting over his tongue. Upon seeing that Fox didn't grimace or spit it out, Fay smiled with satisfaction, and turned to nurse her own plate.

They sat in silence for a few moments, a tranquility that wasn't completely unpleasant but still uncomfortable, while Fox knocked back another few glasses of wine. Finally, after his five or maybe sixth (he had lost count), Fox was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol on his system, and slowly he wound an arm around Fay. She blushed slightly, staring up into Fox's slightly bloodshot eyes. Deciding to take the initiative, Fay pulled herself up and pressed her muzzle to Fox's eliciting a startled gasp from the boy. Using his lapse to her advantage, Fay got even more bold, allowing her tongue the pleasure of journeying inside his mouth.

When Fay pressed her muzzle to his, had Fox gasped, feeling the control of the situation suddenly slipping from his fingers. Here it was, his first kiss, and he had no clue as to go about kissing her back. He felt her slide her tongue into his mouth, the warm flesh stroking his tongue and the insides of his cheeks, and couldn't help but feel that somehow, it was wrong, all wrong and it wasn't supposed to happen like this and he--

He pushed her off him, making a mad dash for the bathroom.

x

_Wow. Just. . . shit. Fuck. What the hell did I just do?_

Fox was in the bathroom, on the floor, leaning against the tub near the toilet. He had just expelled the chocolate cake and Chinese food from his stomach, and was now hanging between Hell and Limbo, in the depths of self flagellation and despair. What in the hell was he going to tell Fay?

_Oh, I'm sorry, your kiss made be throw up. Oh, yeah, she'll really enjoy that one, huh, Lothario? Get a fucking grip on yourself, here!_

Fox set pressed his back against the tub, staring up at the white ceiling. So great, then. Why did he throw up? Why hadn't he enjoy kissing Fay? Fox swallowed as another wave of nausea washed over him, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing it to pass quickly. So, was it really true then? Is that why he couldn't kiss her? Was he really. . . Did he. . .

Everything that he had been fighting against, it was entirely unnatural, completely disgusting it was... it was...

He suddenly thought of kissing Falco, surprised when the notion didn't unsettle him. _I think. . . I think it might feel. . ._right.

Suddenly, Fox felt his whole world rearranged. Or rather, securely fixed, anchored down. With that understanding came a wave of comfort at finally realizing more about himself, something he'd never really given much thought to. He was the leader of the mercenary team Star Fox, son of the ace pilot James McCloud. But then. . . Without the war, who was he, really?

_Well, now we know. I'm a bloody fag. Way to go._

But something about that idea didn't disturb him nearly as much as he thought it should. There was only a gentle needing below it all, quickly rising to the surface. _Falco._

With a shaky sigh, Fox struggled to stand up, walking over to the mirror. He studied the stranger's face in the reflective glass, realizing that he wasn't such a stranger anymore. He quickly washed and dried his face, wiping his paws off on a pastel pink towel. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, then, squaring his shoulders, he opened the bathroom door and stepped out to face the consequences of self discovery.

x

He walked into the living room to find Fay still sitting on the couch, nervously chewing her lip and playing with the hem of her dress. She looked up when he came in, the sadness apparent in her watery blue eyes.

"It was my cooking, wasn't it? I'm sorry that I--"

Fox held up a paw to silence her, sitting down beside her. He swallowed a couple dozen times, trying to get his heart out of his throat.. "No, Fay, it's not that. The date was perfect, and you're perfect. It's just... I... I'm...I don't think that. . ." _Hell, why is it so hard to say?_

Fay after years of studying Fox, seemed to understand, grabbing his paw and rubbing soothing circles over it. "I... I understand, Fox." She broke off for a moment, a bittersweet smile gracing her features. "In a way, I guess I'm glad it's not some other girl."

Fox smiled slightly. They sat for a moment in silence, one that was comfortable and calming that the last, before Fox stood up. "I guess I better get back home," he whispered, hugging Fay, feeling her slender arms wrap around his neck. She pecked him lightly on the cheek, trying to lavish him with enough sympathy as she had to offer.

"Get some rest, Fox."

He nodded, standing up to leave.

x

Fox wandered the streets of downtown Corneria City, not quite ready to return to the base, to turn in and forget about the night's events. He degenerated into dwelling on the subject, trying his best to remain inconspicuous. His limp was acting up, made worse by the alcohol in his system. He stumbled along the streets in a dreamy haze, the hot night air fluttering through his fur. He looked up from the sidewalk just in time to see--

To see----

Falco. Falco and_ Katt._

She had her arms wrapped around his waist, and she was laughing about something, her head nestled on his shoulder. He stared down at her, a smile lighting up his face, one arm around her, the other wing holding onto a doggie bag of some sort. She reached up on her tip-toes and kissed him, lips pressed to his beak, a glimpse of her soft, pink tongue as she--

_Fuck._

Fox didn't even try to stop the broken sob that escaped his throat, a mix of anger, confusion, and need swirling in his chest. His pitiful wail had caught the attention of Katt and Falco, the latter of the two calling his name. Fox spun around hastily, the world spinning for a moment in neon lights and black sky before coming blurrily into focus as he managed a shambling jog in trying to escape.

x

Falco stood stock-still, Katt still clutching him as he stared at Fox, who was running away. At Fox's cry, Falco had snapped his eyes open, his emerald gaze coming to rest on Fox's face, the anger in his eyes, the betrayal written on his face--

And another emotion he was surprised to see, gleaming affection of some kind.

Suddenly the pieces fit in Falco's head, and he knew that if he didn't run after Fox that second, the vulpine would probably try stuffing himself down the incinerator chute. He wanted to move, but didn't, his usually secure bag of emotions falling open, spilling the contents. Shit he didn't feel like dealing with. He stood unmoving, until Katt grabbed him, shaking his shoulders slightly.

"Go on, Falco. I don't really understand what's going on, but I know that you want to run after him," she said, staring up into Falco's eyes. She stroked the back of his neck with one paw as she continued. "I. . ." she stopped again, deflated. "Just go on Falco, find him." The avian nodded, a semi-stricken suspicion on his face that confirmed her suspicious. He ran off, disappearing into the thick street crowd, leaving Katt alone, confused and hurting.

And to top it off, she'd just lost thirty credits in the office pool.

x

"Fox! Fox, slow down, damn it," Falco called after the tod, easily overcoming him. Fox shot back a drunken insult, continuing to stumble along the pavement. Falco finally reached him, and grabbed a hold of his arm, forcing the vulpine to face him. Fox looked p at Falco, anger darkening his eyes, face smearing into a snarl.

"Fox., what the hell is your problem? Why are you so fucking pissed off?

"Let me go, _damn it!_ Nothing is wrong with me!" Fox tried to yank his arm from Falco's grip, failing miserably, the alcohol and emotional trauma waning his strength. With his higher brain functions taking a back seat, Fox added, "Why don't you just go back to your little slut?"

Falco glowered, suddenly wanting to hit Fox, stopping himself. _He's being a drunken idiot. Let him sleep it off. . ._

"Falco. . ." Fox slurrred, mind screaming at him to shut up, his lips betraying him and still moving. "I like, I mean, I'm _attracted. . ._ ah. . . Katt's a bitch."

"What thehell are you trying to say, Fox?"

Fox looked away, feeling sick and ashamed with himself. "You know, Falco."

The avian looked away, sighing. _I can't give you what you need. . ._ He shook his head, turning to look down at the vulpine again, the raw, unkept and unhidden emotions written in his features. He was exposing himself, pushing away his masculine ego and pride, the wine he'd consumed lowering his inhibitions, his thoughts of self preservation. _Take me as I am._

Falco swallowed, wanting to, but not. Feeling disgusted. Feeling fucked up. Thinking about all they had been through. . .

And then, suddenly realizing. _Who the fuck cares?_ Feeling free. Feeling right. _Fuck everything else._

Falco dropped a wing to the small of Fox's back, and pulled him close. Something about it seemed alright.

"Falco?"

"Yeah?"

"Man . . . I think I really like you."

Falco smirked, ruffling the top of Fox's head affectionately. "I know, Fox. I know."

"I mean like, like, _really_ like you. . ."

Falco rolled his eyes, dropped his wing around Fox's waist, struggling to keep the vulpine upright. Fox had one arm wrapped around Falco's neck as they settled into a shambling walk.

"Hey, are you like. . . _okay_ with this?" Fox suddenly piped up, fidgeting in Falco's grasp. The avian rolled his eyes, tring not to think about it, more concerned with keeping Fox upright.

"I think I'm really gonna miss breasts, but I'll fine. Stop moving so much."

Fox snickered and murmured something, his head lolling off to one side for a second. Falco reaffirmed his grip on Fox's waist as they continued on. Fox smiled, then frowned for a moment, trying in all his drunken wisdom to see what Falco was carrying in his left wing. He finally gave up and conceded to asking him. Falco zmiled slightly, holding up a take-out box from the China Jade.

"I didn't eat any yet, Katt and I were taking it back to the trailer to eat."

Fox smiled, warmth spreading through him, an icy needle of doubt hiding within.

_Where do we go from here?_

Fox rested his head against Falco, and decided it wasn't important.


End file.
